


Wrapped in Shadows

by Starcrossedsky



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Bad end, Clothed Sex, M/M, Riku being guilty about hatesnogging, Teenage Hatesnogging, Vanitas is not guilty at all, i guess, past sorikai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starcrossedsky/pseuds/Starcrossedsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When everything else is lost to the shadows, Riku will take comfort where he can.</p>
<p>Or, "teenage enemies with benefits go beyond kissing for the first time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrapped in Shadows

The only thing like Sora he can find is this, this grinning, yellow-eyed monster, with familiar taunts in a familiar voice at the other end of a now-familiar Keyblade. Roxas fled somewhere deep into the Realm of Darkness, when the World that Never Was came crashing down, city blocks only added to the rubble of the Keyblade Graveyard. Ventus is sealed deep within Castle Oblivion, and that is the only thing Riku trusts that's been told to him in Sora's-voice-all-wrong, because if the darkness is here, in front of him, wrapping its arms around him, then the light has to be somewhere and why not there?

Seven pure lights, all lost, seven Keyblades of light, all gone save his - unless you count Namine, in either measure, and she's naught but an ephemeral thing seen out of the corners of his eyes, and the only evidence he has of her Keyblade is overheard screams of rage from the Xehanort-who-was-once-Larxene. He believes in it, though, stubbornly. He has to have hope for something.

They lost. Riku is a guerilla Master without any friends left to fight beside him, just the shadow of a girl of light and this, this key of darkness who is not so empty as his name implies. Vanitas finds him easily, regularly, as only someone who once dreamed Sora's dreams with him could, but always alone, and never to the death.

It takes Riku a long time to realize why. It isn't any feeling of attachment left from Sora, but rather a simple fact: the two of them alone are the only creatures of darkness, the only Keybearers who do not bear Xehanort's mark (save Namine, who is Riku's secret, and Roxas, wherever he has gone, if there is anything left of him). And darkness is attracted to its like.

At least that's the only explanation Riku has for the way his heart tries to scream its way up through his throat during snatched kisses with his enemy, who kisses nothing like Sora does, angry desires without tenderness. Furiously, hopelessly, even with a Keyblade at his throat - Riku kisses back, because he doesn't know what else to do. Loneliness, too, they have in common.

And yet it never goes beyond kissing - Riku isn't sure _why_ , until one time he's pinned and lifts his knee in just the right way and the mouth against his jerks back in shock, and ~~that's the same face Sora made the first time~~ then he can see nothing but the dark ceiling of the cavern, lit dimly by a few still glowing crystals. Riku just stays where he is, flat on his back and breathing heavily, until the sound of a dark corridor closing is completely gone.

Then he figures that he should probably get up, no matter how awkward walking is, just in case one of the Xehanorts decides to come investigating what sent their dark little halfling off in a panic. His sanctuary in the dusky husk of what was once Twilight Town is cool and welcoming, and has seen him breathless before this in much bloodier ways.

The next time they meet, it’s without any pretense of battle. Vanitas bursts up from a puddle of dark moving across the floor, one of his tricks that Riku hasn’t quite been able to steal for himself, and grabs Riku by the collar. “What did you _do_?” he demands, not haughty but desperate, confused, and it just makes Riku want to laugh, because of all the things he thought might throw Vanitas off, a gentle, pleasurable nudge in the crotch wasn’t one of them.

“You’re the one who started the kissing,” he says, smirking down, his face a lot more confident than what’s going through his head (but when _isn’t_ that the case, these days). “I thought you knew what you were getting yourself into.”

Vanitas snarls and jerks on his collar, and Riku has just long enough to think _Sora, Kairi, forgive me_ before they’re kissing, again, fierce and angry and lonely like so many other times. This time he means it more than usual, because when the kiss breaks he reaches down, and Riku knows better than anyone that the darkness-formed suit that seems to be the only thing Vanitas ever wears is less protective than it looks, especially when it comes to squeezing.

Vanitas looks like he doesn’t know whether to kill Riku or fall to his knees in revelation, which is probably about as good as they’re ever going to get. And Riku only feels a little bit guilty over knowing Sora as well as he does, knowing that Sora’s darkness and the boy in his arms are almost one in the same and that Sora’s darkness comes out so strongly in his competitive streak, knowing that a whisper of “It’s not too late to back out,” into black hair is all he has to do to ensure that Vanitas _won’t_ \- 

Though Sora never responded to the taunting quite like this, by putting his hands and all his weight on Riku’s shoulders to lift and clamp his legs around Riku’s waist, and Riku is sure the attempt is to overbalance him and regain some form of control. Vanitas hates being out of control, one of the things Riku has absolute certainty in from their past encounters. So he spreads his legs a little wider and leans back, one hand low on Vanitas’ back to support the weight, and refuses to let him have it.

They stay like that for a while, kissing and sometimes groping and Vanitas not quite turning the same shade of red as Sora, not with skin that’s never known the constant bright sun of the islands, and it’s probably for the better. The little differences help to keep the wrong name off Riku’s tongue. And it’s different with darkness in his arms, where he’s used to light, darkness sliding a hand down between his legs with no certainty but no hesitation, darkness that Riku wishes would put a hand _inside_ his pants already because he knows the texture of those gloves enough that he’s imagined them there before, in guilty moments in the shower. 

Then again, Riku is also the one with enough propriety to break a kiss with, “We’re going somewhere more private,” and wrap them in a dark corridor to somewhere dim and less exposed. Vanitas barely glances around before tangling his fingers in silver hair that’s really getting too long again, but it’s not like Riku has enough allies to plan an effective ambush anyway. It’s not Riku’s most comfortable sanctuary but it’s one he can afford to lose, and the bed is soft enough that he can just drop onto it, almost jostling his passenger loose with the bounce of the mattress. 

It’s a small room, but that’s all you need when all your possessions get shoved deep in the pockets of a black coat anyway. A coat that’s too-quickly becoming hot and stuffy, and after a moment’s consideration Riku shoves Vanitas off his lap to undo the zipper and shrug it loose, his real clothes manifesting out from under the protective enchantment, all of them worn thin and falling apart. The only Darkness in this place is the one he brought with him, after all. If this is some elaborate scheme to kill him... But Riku doesn’t think it is.

It’s the first pause in their little dance, and Vanitas is sitting just a little farther down the bed, with the same look of half-mad wonder-hunger as before. He doesn’t ask before touching, pushing Riku’s shoulders down wrong-way away from the pillows, but it’s never been about _asking_ and the zipper of Riku’s inner vest gets yanked down by hands that aren’t his own and he cares something less than ever before.

“Are you going to take _yours_ off?” he asks, half accusatory.

“Maybe,” Vanitas counters, and Riku prefers this smirk because Sora never made that face. “Maybe not.” Riku takes advantage of the momentary distraction to roll them over. It’s not like he could get his vest off with his back pinned to the bed anyway.

“Better question, are you even wearing anything under there?” he asks, pulling at one of the straps holding the skirt of the outfit in place (it’s less weird to think of it as a skirt when someone else is wearing it). He sees Vanitas stop, retort caught on an empty mouthful of air, and some uninvolved part of Riku hates Xehanort just that little bit more. At least the Organization had seen fit to give their creations clothes. "That looks like a no."

And Vanitas glares all the more, at least until Riku rolls their hips together and they both shiver, Vanitas with the newness and Riku with familiarity. Riku tries to sit back and straddle him properly, but Vanitas _isn't_ Sora and has no problem digging gloved fingers into Riku's hair and dragging his head back down. They kiss again like that, Riku's vest open and his scalp in pain from yanking hands, and _fine_ , if that's the way it's going to be. They're both bulging inside their clothes and if Vanitas doesn't want to show any more skin than his face, Riku won't bother going any further, either. He can get those hands on his skin the next time they wind up like this, or the time after that.

(Guilt thrashes inside him at the thought. Bad enough that he's doing this once, but he knows it will happen again, the same way the kissing did. It's a different kind of battle, and a different kind of feeling alive, that he's desperately missed since losing Sora. Roxas certainly didn't kiss him, much less anything like this.)

Vanitas grinds up, then, returning the pressure with a smirk that Riku feels more than he sees, and the kiss breaks as Riku can't help but roll his head back in response. A groan escapes him, which draws a dark, sharp-edged chuckle from the boy under him.

"I thought you didn't give in to the darkness," Vanitas taunts. "Where's all that precious self-control now?"

Riku growls, pulling the hands out of his hair and pinning them to the bed with his own. "It's right here," he counters the taunt. "The darkness doesn't control me, unlike some people."

The harsh, dark laughter again, even as they grind together (and Riku can't tell who started the motion, this time, though he doesn't especially care). Vanitas doesn't fight the hold on his wrists, but lifts his hips again before going still. He's all dark, except the way his yellow eyes practically glow - really, he's not that far from a Heartless himself. "So you want this," he says, smirking again, the plainness of the statement putting Riku briefly off balance.

He wants to deny it. Guilt wants him to run away, but that means losing, both the competition in their actions and the little bit of human contact he has right now. Riku can't stand to lose either, so he murmurs "Surprised?" against the fabric that runs right up to Vanitas' jaw.

From the brief silence, Riku knows he's countered the attempt to put him off balance with one of his own. The hesitation is only a breath, but it's enough. If this were a battle, now would be the time to strike for the kill, at least if either of them actually wanted the other dead.

"Didn't expect you to admit it," Vanitas mutters, and Riku finds himself grinning as they move together again, a bit better synchronized but not much less combative.

He dips his head again, sucking at the fabric under his lips - not rough, but strongly textured - before nipping at it. It's enough to protect Vanitas from any actual damage the bite could cause, but definitely not enough to stop sensation. Vanitas makes a shocked little gasp and arches his back, squirming as much as he can with his wrists still pinned and their hips locked together. It takes effort to hold him down, more effort than Riku would have expected if they hadn't crossed blades so many times, but they're evenly matched in strength and Riku has just enough advantage in weight for it to count in this position.

The fact that it's a challenge at all has him spreading his legs a little wider, the front of his jeans rough and damp as they grind together. When Riku loosens the grip of his teeth, Vanitas leans forward to return the favor, except in this case there's nothing between teeth and bare skin. It hurts, but not as much as it feels good. Riku's groan is full-volume this time.

"If I knew your neck was such a weak point, I'd have targeted it long before this," Vanitas says. As answer, Riku bites his shoulder fully, hard enough that it would draw blood without the protective fabric. (He could never be this rough with Sora or Kairi, and it's a little shameful how much he enjoys it.) Vanitas swears, or tries to, his voice rough as he moans. His legs come up around Riku's hips again, drawing them closer. Riku can feel both of them, hard and straining fabric, and it's horribly perfect how well they fit together, how well this _works_ between them.

It shouldn't. But darkness attracts its like and darkness is all Riku can smell with his face against Vanitas' neck and black hair spiking into his own. Vanitas _is_ darkness, and they shudder against each other with shallow thrusts until there's no point thinking anymore. Vanitas rolls back his head, his fingers curled and his eyes closed, and though there's nothing wet seeping through the protective fabric between their bodies, Riku knows the signs of relaxation well enough.

He squeezes his own eyes shut. With Sora and Kairi, he always saw stars, but here he sees nothing but blackness and hooded, gleaming gold. With a last shudder, Riku collapses, his grip on Vanitas' wrists going loose as they both try to catch their breath.

Riku is wet and messy and Vanitas is wriggling out from under his weight, kicking a pillow against the wall as he unhooks his legs from Riku's hips. Riku grudgingly rolls to the side and opens his eyes, trying to force his body into wariness. They'll be enemies again at any moment, instead of whatever they were in each other's hands.

Vanitas seems to be thinking the same, if his expression is any indication. "I could kill you now," he says hollowly, his voice like a new Nobody's must be. "Or take you to Xehanort and let _him_ kill you."

"But you won't," Riku ventures, because if Vanitas planned to do any of those things, he'd do that, or at least have his Keyblade out to try.

"No." The face opposite Riku's twists into a smirk as Vanitas rises from the bed, stretching his arms over his head. It's almost an echo of Sora's trademark gesture, hands behind his head, but it's all Vanitas, really, dark and sharp. "If I did, then we couldn't do this again."

It's Riku's turn to smirk, as he sits up and leans his back against the wall. "Who says you have an invitation?"

"You're not inviting me," Vanitas answers, mask forming around his features, a dark corridor forming around his body. "I'm going to take it."

Riku probably shouldn't be grinning, at the thought and the last sight of yellow eyes in a swirl of darkness, but he does anyway.


End file.
